


Surprise

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: F/M, Lingerie, Mutual Masturbation, Shameless Smut, We're definitely not in Abnegation anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 20:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14268648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Tris recalls the thrill of running with the Dauntless for the first time, jumping trains and chasing adrenaline for the sole purpose of pleasure, and it’s similar to this, giving in to need and desire and not caring about logic. There’s nothing to be afraid of in this, in physicality and honesty and passion, and she knew that before now but something about the feel of black lace on her body definitely enhances it.





	Surprise

Tris wasn’t sure about this before, and she’s definitely not sure about it now. Adrenaline runs through her veins, honest and excited and eager, but just as quickly as she gets used to the feeling another comes, this time full of concern and embarrassment.

    “Just come home soon,” she practically demands into the phone, her hand absently rubbing the garter that runs up her thigh. She doesn’t think she looks bad, but it feels weird.

    “I’ll be home in a bit,” Tobias replies, and she can hear the sigh in his voice. His tone is tired, Tris can tell he's stressed. Just another reason for him to come home. “What's the big rush anyways?”

    “I just want you to come home,” Tris says innocently, twirling a strand of her hair, as if he could even see her. This feels wrong, feels fake, doesn’t feel like her and definitely doesn’t feel like them. Still, she says, “I, um...have a surprise for you.”

That seems to catch Tobias’s attention. “Hmm?”

    “Just come home,” she whines. “Say you got sick or something. You deserve a little time off anyways.”

    “Tris, there's so much work I have to do, you know how my boss-”

    “Which is exactly why you should leave,” she says, interrupting him, and she silently applauds herself on the confidence she exuded in her voice.

There’s silence on the other end, then Tris can practically hear his smirk. “What could it possibly be that has you so worked up?”

Tris bites her lip, fighting a grin. “Come home and see,” she says in the most flirtatious tone she can manage. She never liked to force sexuality, to make anything too sexy in fear that it would seem fake or staged. That was why she didn't like lingerie. She had tried a lace set once, something a little girlier and more pink than she might originally wear, and Tobias liked it. She didn't particularly mind it either, it wasn't too extravagant, but it was a little itchy. Since Christina had bought her this outfit — which truthfully wasn't that much different — just a smaller, lower cut black bra with a loose red ribbon, hipster panties with garters hanging at the sides- and a choker, which Tris instantly threw in the trash. Knee high socks went with it, but she wasn't sure how she felt about them. She would let Tobias decide. 

    “Tris…” he says from the other line, and she can tell his resolve is wavering.

    “Please? I miss you. And I know you're stressed, I want to make it up to you.”

Tris knows that'll give him a slight hint as to what she has in mind. After a little more coaxing he finally gives in and tells her he'll be home in about twenty minutes, and a sense of pride rushes through her. She grins to herself as she lays on the bed, admiring the outfit in the mirror — or at least trying to.

“Not too bad,” she assures herself. “Nothing too crazy.” 

She focuses her gaze on her reflection in the mirror, running a hand along her stomach. Her body tingles with excitement knowing what is to come; as nerve-wracking as this is she knows the outcome will be good, but her fear has never been the most rational. She fights the urge to slip a hand in her panties, get herself a little relief like she has been doing rather often now that Tobias is constantly at work, and to make her focus on something more powerful than the butterflies in her stomach. A moment later she decides to give in, knowing that she has time; there will probably be traffic anyways. 

She watches her reflection in the mirror, her hand disappeared under her undergarment. The pressure is nice, but it's nothing like Tobias, strong and hard and soft and  _ real _ . Just thinking of him makes the feeling a little better, imagining him touching her instead of just her own hand. She reminds herself that in only a few minutes it will be him touching her instead, and that enough makes it all a little better, a little more bearable.

She freezes when she hears the keys jangle in the door, the familiar sound of boots kicked off, jacket thrown to the side, running water, washing his hands. She considers letting him find her like this, splaying herself on the bed and putting on a show, but instead she jumps up and tiptoes into the kitchen, sneaking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his torso. 

    “Hey,” she whispers. 

He gives her a weary smile over his shoulder. “Hey, baby.” He turns to face her and she watches in pure joy as his eyes widen and jaw slack, his hand instantly coming to her waist before giving her a questioning look.

    “What are you-”

    “Christina bought me this,” Tris says instantly, rolling her eyes and holding her hands up,  wanting that to be known first and foremost. “But I…I don't know, I kind of like it.”

Tobias’s eyes are already clouded over, lust evident and immediate. He stares at her, the worry in his eyes replaced with something much deeper, something she’s become so familiar with.

His other hand finds her hip, pulling her close to him so their faces are only inches apart. 

    “I like it,” he whispers, kissing her cheek, her jaw. 

    “A lot.” Her ear. Her throat. 

    “I thought you would,” she murmurs, already breathless.

In seconds he crashes his lips to hers, grasping the back of her thighs with just enough pressure to make her grin. He lifts her up and presses her against the fridge, running his hand along the soft material that covers her breasts. 

    “This was your surprise,” he pants out between kisses, fingering the garter that rests against her leg. 

She nods slowly, suddenly embarrassed. He seems to notice that, so he grips her thigh tighter, kisses her harder, until they're both breathless again. 

    “Fuck,” he mutters. “Tris, I...I love this. I didn't think you would, but…Jesus, you're beautiful. You’re so, so beautiful. And you’re so, so sexy.”

She shrugs, flushing, then shakes her head. “I-”

He shakes his head and kisses her again but drops her to the ground, earning a whine from Tris. He grabs her hand and pulls her into the bedroom, slamming the door before standing in front of the mirror and tugging her in front of him, his chest against her back, his hands circling her stomach. 

    “Look at you,” he whispers against her neck. His hands run up to her breasts, giving them a light squeeze before continuing his travels up her shoulders. He makes his way back down again, taking his time circling the hip line of her panties before rubbing her through the material. She lets out a sigh, dropping her head back against his shoulder. He gives her a slight nudge forward to move her head back. 

    “Watch me,” he whispers. 

She's so turned on by this, his control yet appreciation of her, and she's beyond thrilled that he appreciated her efforts and isn't just irritated she demanded he come home for something as unimportant as sex. But they both know that there's not much more important than this, these uninhibited, intimate moments they have together. 

He eventually tugs her panties down to her thighs and presses a finger against her clit. Even he lets out a moan. 

    “God, you're so wet,” he whispers, and the dirty talk only encourages her. She grinds her ass against his member and he lets out a groan before pressing his mouth against her shoulder. 

    “You know why?” she murmurs back, surprisingly herself once again with her words.      “Why, baby?” he asks, moving up to her neck again. 

    “I was thinking of you. And I wanted you. And I was...doing things,” she breathes out. She's a little nervous with all of this, but it certainly isn't the first time this has happened, and she's more excited than anything, knowing what's coming. She thinks back to the time that feels like ages ago, when she was sixteen, sitting in the chair in the simulation room when he inserted the needle into her neck and told her to be brave. Now, she realizes bravery comes in many forms. 

Tobias freezes, stopping his motions. Tris whines when he pulls his hand away. 

    “What things?” he says.

    “You know…” She replies, taking hold of his hand and dragging it back to her clit. She lets out a breath when the much needed pressure is back. 

Tobias still doesn't move. His breaths rapid, eyes dark, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

    “Show me,” he says. 

Tris flushes. “I…” She's never admitted to touching herself before, although she assumed he knew she'd done it before. Even being raised Abnegation, there was always scandals revolving what trouble teenagers got into. 

Tobias steps in front of her and presses a kiss to her forehead, rubbing her arms. “Tris...it’s okay. Come on.”

    “You don't judge me?” she asks, and Tobias looks at her like she just asked if he judges her for drinking water. 

    “No,” he chuckles, brushing away a stray hair that had fallen into her face. “Of course not. Everyone does it.”

She raises her eyebrows at him. 

    “Well, I'm a guy, so of course,” Tobias says. “Come on. This is nothing new.”

She smirks, encouraged by his respect, and lays down onto the bed. She kicks the underwear off, relieved to have the garter gone, the dangling against her legs getting annoying. She watches Tobias. He sits next to her, and she can already see the tent forming in his slacks. 

    “Take off your pants,” she says. 

He gives her a look. “Tris, I just want to watch you-”

    “I know, I know. But take off your pants.”

When he doesn't move, she heaves a sigh and leans over to unbuckle his belt. “You look like you're suffocating over here, that's all.”

He laughs, suddenly understanding. He sits beside her in only his boxers, while she lay in only her bra. She keeps her eyes on him as she trails her hand down her stomach, stopping when she reaches her pubic bone. She's insecure for a moment, until she sees the darkness in his eyes, and then she's encouraged. She slips her finger over her clit, stroking her folds. She rotates her index finger over her clit, quickening her pace to increase the friction. She's so turned on by the idea of him watching her, it just makes it all feel so better with him beside her than it did when she was alone. She continues her movements and watches his eyes, desperate to follow her movements. His breathing is quick, his cock stretching against his underwear. She sees him twitch inside and takes that as a cue to ease her finger through her folds and slip into her core. Sure enough, as soon as she does that, Tobias mutters something incoherent under his breath. 

    “You can take your boxers off if you want,” Tris says, knowing he probably needs to, and loving the idea of watching him alongside her. 

He does as she says, not taking his eyes off of her as he lays beside her. She gives him an expectant look, waiting for him to touch himself. 

He does, his hand easing up his length slowly. 

She moves another hand down, rubbing her clit while the other hand occupies her core. 

She quickens her speed as Tobias does his, mimicking each other and she’s amazed how quickly she’s overwhelmed, how she’s pushing herself further than she has ever on her own. Nothing’s ever been as erotic or stimulating as the sight of herself splayed open, vulnerable, unashamed and  _ needing,  _ and Tobias just as caught up beside her. His eyes lock on hers, hand slipping along his length and she knows he’s close just from the way he looks at her. She wants this to happen at the same time, if they can time it, but more than anything she just wants to fall apart with him. 

It happens soon, sudden, and it erases any shame she could have because it’s better than she could have imagined, maybe better than it’s ever been. They don’t think of factions much anymore, instead look back on the darker times with the same sense they look back at their positive childlike adolescence. Still, Tris can’t help but think that the restriction of sex — sin, as they were taught, at least before marriage and not for procreation purposes— maybe makes it better now. She recalls the thrill of running with the Dauntless for the first time, jumping trains and chasing adrenaline for the sole purpose of pleasure, and it’s similar to this, giving in to need and desire and not caring about logic. There’s nothing to be afraid of in this, in physicality and honesty and passion, and she knew that before now but something about the feel of black lace on her body definitely enhances it.

    “God,” Tobias breathes, eyes dark, hooded, lust-filled and bright on her.

    “Yeah,” is all she can say in reply, because she’s still panting and can’t keep her eyes off him. He’s all smooth, glistening skin, curves and edges and defined muscle, and she’s exhausted but not enough to give up yet, to not fall against his side and press a kiss to his chest. His hand flutters to her back as her hands slip across his abdomen, teasing and warm. She sucks a kiss against his collarbone, moves to his shoulder, his neck, his jaw, until she’s in his lap and she’s ridiculously wet. 

    “I think this was actually a really good idea,” she mumbles against his lips, through a noise that’s half a laugh and half a moan because she grinded on his thigh and it shouldn’t feel that good, it normally doesn’t feel that good but it  _ does.  _

He nods through a kiss, tugging on her bottom lip gently with his teeth, urging her to arch into him more so she does, and then his hand skims against her core, fingers gentle against her clit and  _ oh,  _ he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

He’s always been good, she can’t deny it, especially given both their lack of experience in the beginning, but he’s improved over the years to the point where sometimes she swears he knows her body better than she does. She’s oversensitive but yearning and he recognizes it, so he pushes her up so she’s close to his face. 

    “You want me to?” he asks, always proceeding with caution, and she mutters a curse before nodding rather enthusiastically as he positions himself closer to the center of the bed and she rests her knees on pillows beside his head.

They’ve only done this a few times— the first time happened through drunken curiosity and while she lost her balance and they both ended up laughing so hard they forgot to try again that night— but he likes it, and so does she,  _ so much.  _ Tobias gives and gives and gives, and she knows he loves to do it, which almost makes it even better. 

He wastes no time before lapping at her folds, whining in agreement when his hands wrap around her thighs and she lowers herself a little more. She’s tentative, always a little worried she’ll suffocate him and this is still a relatively new position for them but he has no concerns; instead his hands smooth up and down her thighs, multitasking as his tongue knows exactly what to do and she moans encouragements. 

She arches her back as she begins to rotate her hips, needing more friction, and she finds that with a little extra work she can hold onto the headboard with one hand and manage to slip a hand along his shaft with the other. 

He jolts at her touch, surprised, and he moans something against her folds, likely a curse word, and it’s so hot that she thinks she could come again at that alone.

    “Say something again,” she urges, keeping her rotations slow, but not wanting him to do all the work himself.

He does— he whispers an “I love you” against her thigh, something else about how good she is that she can’t exactly make out, and then nips his way back down to her clit and across to the other leg, and it’s intimate but exactly what she needs. She feels her orgasm coming like a countdown, knows exactly when he makes that next stroke with his tongue she’s going to fall apart, and she does.

She has to let go of his cock to grip the headboard with both hands, feeling electric as pleasure pushes through her body, new every time. She whispers his name, reaching for his hand and intertwining their fingers as he helps her ride through the feeling. 

    She falls back against the bed, thighs spit-slick and drenched, spent. Her whole body feels alive, rejuvenated with his touch, and she feels like this could go on forever, passion and bodies and every position ever known just because he knows exactly how to touch her and she knows exactly how to touch him so why should they ever stop?

She’s tired though, and once she can breathe normally again she turns her attention back to him. His dick is hard again and she teases just the tip with her fingers as she reaches up for a deep kiss, like a thank you. She smiles into the kiss and then turns, taking his shaft in her mouth and licking, slow and languid. His fingers slip into her hair, guiding her with barely any pressure because he knows she knows what to do. She relishes in the feeling of him, hard and ready, and in the fact that she can give him the release he craves. There’s a sort of power in it, a sense of pride and satisfaction at being just what he needs to be set free, and she loves it, just as he loves to let her do what she wants with full faith that she’ll provide. 

When he comes, it’s with a rumbling moan and a tightening of her hair, and then he pulls her up for a desperate kiss. She positions herself atop his stomach, stretched out comfortably with her gaze on him, and she grins up at him innocently.

    “You’re right,” he says, fingers tripping across her shoulder absently as he recovers. “This was a very good idea.”

    “Aren’t you glad you came home from work?”

He chuckles. “I definitely am, but this may become a problem if it’s a regular thing.”

She arches her eyebrows at him. “How so?”

He twirls a strand of her hair between his thumb and index finger, smirking. “I may never leave the bedroom again, let alone be able to function in daily life and go back to work.”

She laughs, peppering his chest with a kiss when her head drops to it. “I suppose I should thank Christina for this.”

He shakes his head and circles his arms around her waist. “I don’t think she’ll want to know how much I enjoyed this,” he says boyishly. “Our business.”

    “Perfect for me,” Tris says with a breath of relief. “I didn’t want to have that conversation.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I started this years ago, stumbled upon it recently and wanted to finish it up and put it into the world, so here we are. Feedback is greatly appreciated, and the Divergent fandom may be pretty quiet nowadays but I'm always here (or on Tumblr, under the same username) to talk about how much I miss these two and how they deserved so much better.


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